The Death of Echizen Ryoma
by JacksBoonie
Summary: The body of Echizen Ryoma was found three days after the Nationals, two days after he had been reported missing, and only one day after he had been carelessly disposed of in a downtown dumpster. Thrill Pair. Warning: Character Death.
1. Death

AN: REPOST! Thanks so much to **_awin-chan _**for all the amazing help!...I don't know what's wrong with me. I get into a new series, and the only thing my mind can spew forth is how to kill the main character, how to break another character's heart so massively that they crumble from the sheer sorrow of the situation...Well, as the title suggests, this is, in fact, a deathfic...which contains the death of a character (in this case, a rather major character). So, if these kinds of stories depress you, keep you up at night, or make your eyes water uncontrollably, please...remember that I warned you before you read it, yea? I love these characters, really I do, and unfortunately, this is how I show my love...I kill them. And I kill them dead.

FORMAL WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Disclaimer: I do not own the television show/manga _Prince of Tennis_. I do not own the characters of the television show/manga _Prince of Tennis_.

_The Death of Echizen Ryoma_

The body of Echizen Ryoma was found three days after the Nationals, two days after he had been reported missing, and only one day after he had been carelessly disposed of in a downtown dumpster. Bruises littered his pale skin, his left eye still gushing crimson tears and his hair twisted into knots and tangles. Never before had anyone seen him so frail, so vulnerable, so much like...a child.

And the only thing that seemed to be missing was a certain Seigaku tennis jacket that he had never before been seen without.

0 o 0 o 0

Ryuzaki-Sensei walked with a heavy heart towards the tennis courts of Seishun Gakuen, her thoughts wandering to the telephone conversation she'd had only moments before.

"_You're certain?"_

"_We've seen him for ourselves...Our son is dead."_

"_...Nanjiroh, I'm—"_

"_I have to go." Click._

His tone of voice had broken her heart. The distance in it had seemed unreal, like he would start laughing at any moment and tell her it was all a sadistic joke. But she had heard past the distance, had heard the man's shattered world in the few curt words he'd offered. He couldn't believe it either, even though he'd seen the body, identified it as his son, his _twelve-year-old son_.

Echizen Ryoma was dead.

And as Ryuzaki-Sensei entered the court, calling the regulars to her in the grimmest voice she had ever used, she knew that the hard part had yet to come.

0 o 0 o 0

Silence, complete and utter, accompanied by wide-eyed looks of disbelief.

"Body?" Oishi whispered, as if the meaning of the word had escaped him.

"N-No, he's...We just...He was..." Momoshiro struggled for words, his head shaking as memories flooded his mind, flooded _everyone's _minds.

They had seen him a few days ago. He had smiled, had looked genuinely happy, had celebrated with them. And he was just a kid. Things like this didn't happen to kids. They just didn't.

Surprisingly, the first to give an actual reaction was none other than Fuji Syuusuke. He fell to his knees, then to his hands, his head lowered towards the ground.

A terrifying scream breached his throat.

AN: There will, of course, be more. I can't just leave it like that, especially when I promised a Thrill pairing. Flashbacks mostly, I think, on Syuusuke's part. Hmmm. Thank you very much for reading. :)


	2. Crumbling Pillar

AN: REPOST! Thanks so much to _**awin-chan**_ for the amazing help!...Wow! What feedback. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! This first scene is actually sort of a rewind from the last scene of the first chapter. Hopefully it's not too confusing. Enjoy!

_Chapter Two: Crumbling Pillar_

"There was an incident early this morning," Ryuzaki-Sensei explained to the regulars gathered around her in a semi-circle, her hands on her hips and the look on her face stern. Immediately, the tennis-prodigies-minus-one settled into seriousness, sensing the news that was about to be given was not good.

"Ryuzaki-Sensei," Eiji interrupted, looking worried, "this doesn't have anything to do with Ochibi, does it?"

The old woman lowered her head, closing her eyes and sighing. The middle-schoolers weren't even supposed to be at practice. They'd been given a week off from tennis because of their exceptional playing at Nationals. But Seigaku already had their minds set for next year's tournament, even the seniors, who would be attending high school in the upcoming semester.

She really just wanted to tell them, to give them the news and let them grieve. Their worried expressions were not helping any, and Eiji's question spawned more in the eyes of her most-beloved team.

"I'm afraid it does," she said, hoping her voice hadn't sounded as frail as she thought it had. She looked up to find several expectant looks, the hope that had shined there for days slowly beginning to fade. She swallowed. "His body was found three hours ago."

The regulars stood dumb-struck, their eyes glossing over as the news settled over them like a dark cloud. Ryuzaki was not looking forward to the churning storm about to be released on her tennis courts.

"Body?" Oishi whispered, his tone detached as if he were merely repeating an answer from a homework assignment.

Momoshiro slowly began to shake his head. "N-No, he's..." _He's fine_ "We just..." W_e just saw him a few days ago _"He was..." _He was safe, he was smiling and laughing and celebrating, he was...alive._

Suddenly, Fuji fell to his hands and knees, letting loose a long, horrible scream. The sound echoed out across the campus, ceasing any and all activity. The regulars stood stunned for a moment, not sure what to do until Tezuka made the first move.

"Fuji," he said, kneeling down beside him and grasping the boy's shoulders. As he felt Fuji's body trembling beneath his touch, the captain's frown deepened. Carefully, he helped the boy up, steering him towards the locker room. "Please excuse us, Ryuzaki-Sensei," he murmured as they passed the old woman. She nodded, offering a worried look before turning to the other regulars again.

"I understand it's been difficult these past few days for all of you, and for it to end like this..." She shook her head, giving another exhausted sigh. "For those of you interested—" and, of course, she knew they all would be "—the funeral will be held the day after tomorrow. Ryoma's father requested that you all be there." She took in each expression in turn, continuing when she sensed no argument. "And tennis practice has been canceled for the remainder of the summer."

This piece of news, however, struck something within the young tennis players.

"What?" Momoshiro protested.

"Sensei, with all due respect—" Inui began, perching his glasses further up his nose.

"That's not what Ochibi would want." Eiji wiped his nose on his sleeve, sniffling as a few tears fell down his cheeks.

"Sshuu," Kaidoh hissed, crossing his arms and turning away slightly as his own eyes fell prey to a glossy sheen.

"We need to honor his meh-moh-ree!" Taka-san stated bluntly, waving his racket above his head.

Ryuzaki huffed with annoyance at the group's answers, turning slightly to the vice-captain and raising an eyebrow. "Anything to add, Oishi?"

The young man heaved a small, quiet sigh, glancing over at his teammates and giving them his best leadership attitude. "We should do as Ryuzaki-sensei has said," he concluded firmly, holding up a hand to stop the others' protests, "if not for Echizen's sake...then for Fuji's."

0 o 0 o 0

Tezuka said nothing as he led Fuji past the other courts, past gawking first- and second-years, through the door of the locker room. He sat the stricken young man down on the bench furthest from the entrance, crouching down in front of him and clutching his friend's arms tightly.

"Fuji," he whispered, giving the other a small shake.

Blue eyes wide and unseeing, Fuji said nothing.

Tezuka sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head some. Echizen was gone. Really gone. The tennis captain had no idea what this would do to his team. Without their _pillar_, Seigaku was sure to crumble, and Tezuka knew which of the team members was likely to fall first.

"You need to be strong...for Echizen."

These words snapped the young man from his stupor, and he turned accusing eyes onto the bespectacled captain. Wrenching himself from Tezuka's hold, he gritted his teeth and leaned forward with a growl.

"What do you know about him?" Fuji yelled, surprising the other. Tezuka nearly lost his balance, having to grasp the lockers behind him to keep from falling backward.

"Fuji?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing.

The young tennis prodigy stood and paced the small space between the bench and the lockers. Tezuka stood as well, frowning as he watched his angry friend and long-time rival rant his frustrations.

"You and your 'Pillar of Seigaku,' forcing him to take your place. He didn't want it. He didn't!" Fuji spat, his hands clenched into shaking fists at his sides. "But you kept pushing him, _breaking _him, like he was yours to take." Desperation was slowly leaking into the teen's tone, his voice trembling more with every step he took. "You were jealous—you've _always_ been jealous—because he wanted _me _and not _you_. He _never _wanted you!" Fuji halted directly in front of the captain, eyes burning and a finger shoved into Tezuka's chest. "This is _your fault_!"

Tezuka crossed his arms and said nothing.

Fuji's shoulders shuddered with each breath. His eyes widened after a moment, and he took a step back, swallowing hard. He shook his head. "Tezuka...I—"

"You're upset," Tezuka interrupted, his eyes unable to hide the hurt that Fuji had caused. "You should leave for the day. Rest will do you good."

Fuji took a breath and opened his mouth as if to say something, but his voice clung to the back of his throat. A look of defeat fell over his face, and his gaze shifted to the floor at Tezuka's feet. He nodded and turned, leaving the locker room without his school things, without so much as a goodbye.

0 o 0 o 0

Fuji heard Eiji call his name from the courts as he walked by. He didn't stop, didn't look up. His head was swimming in too much, too many memories.

_You know, you should really call me Syuusuke. I mean, we're dating, aren't we?_

_What's the matter? You've never made out in a locker room before?_

_You'll stay in Japan for high school, won't you? You have to promise!_

_Don't be gone too long! I'll be waiting for you when you get back to Japan._

_I'm so glad you called! I miss you!_

_I dreamt about you last night. You wouldn't believe the things we did..._

_Ryoma! Welcome home! How was America?_

_I knew you couldn't stay away forever._

_With you here, we're sure to win the Nationals._

_Please, Ryoma. Please, you have to remember tennis. You have to remember...us._

_You did it! Ryoma, you're amazing!_

_Ryoma! Don't forget, we're going out on Saturday. I'm picking you up at seven._

_No, Sir, I'm sorry. I haven't seen him...We were supposed to go out tonight._

_Ryoma's missing?_

_Ryoma's dead?_

_Ryoma?_

_Ryoma..._

AN: The next chapter should be the funeral, I think. And more indepth memories from Fuji. Thanks for reading! Catch you in the next chapter. I promise, they'll get longer as we go along. :)


	3. Word Happens

AN: This is a reposted chapter, but it has adjustments and added scenes, so I would highly recommend re-reading it, just so there's no confusion in the upcoming chapters.

Thanks so, so much to my brandly-new beta **_awin-chan_** for being amazing and wonderful and all-around great at getting my fic into tip-top shape for posting. I really appreciate all the time and effort, and I can't wait to see how this fic turns out with that kind of guidance.

Enjoy!

_Chapter Three: Word Happens_

Atobe Keigo lowered the receiver of an old-fashioned telephone into its cradle with a soft clacking noise, his gaze fixed ahead at a very expensive portrait hanging on a very expensive wall.

"Echizen Ryoma," the Hyoutei Gakuen captain whispered to the empty room, balling his hand into a trembling fist and resting his chin on it thoughtfully.

0 o 0 o 0

Tachibana Kippei snapped his cellphone shut, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he frowned and leaned back against the chain-link fence surrounding the tennis courts of Fudoumine.

"Buchou?" Kamio called, seeing his captain's distress. The others turned in his direction, momentarily distracted from their warm-ups.

Tachibana sighed, looking around at his teammates before saying, "That was Seigaku's Ryuzaki-sensei. She had news about Echizen..."

0 o 0 o 0

Dan sprinted from Banji-sensei's office, tears obstructing his vision as he sobbed helplessly. He hadn't meant to overhear the conversation the coach had been having over the phone, but it couldn't be true. It couldn't! Not Echizen...

He collided with a firm obstacle, nearly tumbling to the unforgiving pavement of the Yamabuki campus. A pair of slender hands grabbed him before he fully lost his balance, righting him and affectionately brushing invisible dirt from his tennis jersey.

Dan looked up...and up...and up. "Akutsu-sama!"

The older middle-schooler raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar suffix, frowning as he noticed garish streaks on the boy's smooth, pale cheeks. "What's happened?" he droned.

Dan's face contorted, and he furiously wrapped his arms around Akutsu's slim waist, blubbering into the older's shirt. "E-Echizen..."

0 o 0 o 0

"I see," Yukimura Seiichi murmured, his lips barely moving. He bowed to the figure sitting across the desk. "Thank you, sensei." Turning sharply on his heels, he exited the office into the corridors of Rikkai Dai Fuzoku. He paused, not bothering to look up as he addressed the person leaning against the wall just outside the office. "You heard, then?"

Sanada straightened, arms still crossed. "Yes."

Yukimura closed his eyes and nodded. "Good," he said in a near whisper, starting on his way again with the other teen in tow.

0 o 0 o 0

Tooyama Kintarou's wails could be heard from every corner of Shitenhouji Chuugakkou, the clangs and bangs coming from the locker room placing a distant second to the noises emitting from his throat. His teammates did their best to comfort him, dodging flying tennis rackets with broken strings and shoes with bitten toes and heels.

Finally, the Shitenhouji captain, Shiraishi Kuranosuke, stepped forward, grabbing the first year's arms fiercely and shaking him. "That's enough!" he shouted over the boy's bawling. "Kintarou, no more!"

The younger middle-schooler thrust himself into the captain's chest, wrapping long, lanky arms around Shiraishi and squeezing to the point of cutting off the teen's oxygen. "He promised!" the boy cried, tears and snot running down his face in rivers. "Koshimae promised me another match! He lied! He lied! I hate Koshimae! I hate him!"

0 o 0 o 0

"Aa...Thank you, Mizuki-senpai..." Fuji Yuuta let the telephone slip from his hand back into its charger just as the sound of the front door sliding open sounded. He looked up, watching as his brother toed off his shoes and exhaustedly started towards the stairs.

"Syuusuke?"

The older middle-schooler ignored him, his lips tightening into a grim line as he quietly made his way up the stairs. Yuuta heard his brother's bedroom door slide open and closed.

0 o 0 o 0

_//Day Two of Echizen Ryoma's Death//_

Word spread like wildfire throughout the student bodies of all top-name middle schools. Echizen Ryoma had been found in a dumpster behind a run-down noodle restaurant. Newspaper reports stated that he had been beaten to death, had probably withstood two days of assault before his injuries were severe enough to kill him. Internal bleeding, organ damage, innumerable broken bones and bruises, rupture of the left eye. The gruesome list went on, but no one could bear to continue.

Gossip reached just as many ears, though it was severely limited at Seigaku. No one wanted to be caught talking about the late Echizen, especially with his former boyfriend and teammates wandering the campus like shadows and ghosts. No longer were the regulars the center of attention because of their amazing tennis skills; instead they were looked upon with sympathy and more than a small amount of worry.

Momoshiro's appetite and Kaidoh's glare both waned. Eiji's buoyant personality fizzled, Oishi's mother-hen tendencies going with it. Taka-san's alter ego burned a little less brightly, and Fuji just wasn't Fuji at all, especially without his smile. Tezuka was the only one who seemed unaffected outwardly, but anyone who knew him could see the loss in his eyes, could see the blame he had forced himself to accept on Seigaku's behalf, even though there was really no blame to assign.

Despite Ryuzaki-Sensei's cancellation of tennis practice for the remainder of the summer, the group still met that morning and afternoon, holding half-hearted matches and spending more time off the court than on. They laced and tied their shoes with no rush, ran twice as many laps, took their time when stretching. Anything that kept them off the courts but not too far away, they did. Anything that kept their minds occupied but not too distant, they thought. And anything that kept Ryoma's heart-wrenching memory at bay for just a little longer but not out of reach, they accepted.

Several captains and teams stopped by the middle school to offer their condolences. Nearly all of Fudoumine, Dan and Banji-sensei, Mizuki and Yuuta, Yukimura along with Sanada. Even Atobe made a brief appearance with his one-man entourage, Kabaji. Tezuka and Ryuzaki accepted their sympathies with respect, offering information about the funeral the next day. None of the other regulars cared to pay attention to the visiting teams, preferring to murmur across the courts to one another about the following year and the classes they would be taking once they reached high school.

Yuuta studied his brother carefully from Tezuka's side, frowning as another ball sailed past the older teen's head for another point in Kaidoh's favor. It had been a simple volley, something easily returnable. But the prodigy's eyes lacked any spark that tennis had once inspired, leaving Yuuta disappointed and Kaidoh in an angry state. Tezuka and Yuuta saw the bandana-ed boy throw his racket across the court, missing Fuji's face by inches, and hurdle the net as he took determined steps towards his sempai.

Just before he reached the long-haired teen, Kaidoh was grabbed by Momoshiro and Inui, Oishi and Eiji stepping in front of an unresponsive Fuji.

"Kaidoh, you dumb fuck, cut it out!" Momo shouted into his rival's ear, giving the teen's shoulder a firm squeeze to get his attention.

Kaidoh growled low in his throat. "Tell this bastard to play me! I will not win this match because he doesn't have the guts!"

"In case you hadn't noticed," Inui said with surprising calm, releasing one of his hands to hitch up his glasses, "none of us do. All of our games are suffering—" he leaned in close so as not to be overheard by their observers "—even the captain's."

Across the court, Yuuta sighed, shifting uncomfortably before speaking to the intimidating teen beside him. "Tezuka-senpai," he murmured, gaining the attention of the other, "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

Tezuka looked down at the brother of their prodigy from the corner of his eye, giving a curt nod and nothing more.

Yuuta turned fully towards the captain, his hard gaze fixed and unwavering. "Watch him."

Tezuka's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he shifted slightly so that he could look the boy full in the face. "Watch him?" he repeated, his silent request for elaboration finding its way to the younger.

Yuuta turned back to the court, where things seemed to be settling down. "My brother isn't stupid. He won't try anything...drastic." He looked to the ground. "But I don't know how far he'll take this...You know what they call him?"

Tezuka grunted his affirmation, repressing the urge to shiver.

_Sadist_. The captain knew the term well, had seen it in action whenever the prodigy took the court. God help whoever challenged the wrath of Fuji Syuusuke with a tennis racket.

"Then you know what he's capable of," Yuuta continued. "Syuusuke does not leave things unfinished. He will look for answers, and when he finds what he is looking for..."

Tezuka held his breath, taking note of the fact that the younger boy had used "when," not "if."

Yuuta looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. "...there will be no place, in heaven or hell, that will take him in."

0 o 0 o 0

Fuji watched with little interest as Kaidoh's racket sailed past his face, refusing to flinch as the younger middle-schooler jumped the net and started towards him, fire in his eyes. Momoshiro and Inui grabbed the angry teen quickly while Oishi and Eiji stepped in front of the prodigy. Fuji frowned. He didn't want protection. He wanted to feel. He wanted Kaidoh to beat him into the ground, spill his blood, leave him bruised and broken like Ryoma had been.

Momo and Inui talked Kaidoh down, and Fuji's fists began to shake at his sides.

"Let him through," he demanded quietly, and all eyes turned to him in shock. "Let him finish what he started."

"Fuji-senpai," Momo murmured sadly, his grip still tight around his teammate's arm and shoulder. Kaidoh looked just as shaken, no longer tugging against the forces holding him back.

"Let him," Fuji pleaded, his racket slipping to the ground as his hold on it weakened. "Please..."

No one said a word.

0 o 0 o 0

Yuuta, hands shoved deeply into his pockets and gaze pinned to the ground, walked from the Seigaku campus with a frown. He couldn't, for the life of him, comprehend why Syuusuke felt the need to punish himself for the death of Echizen Ryoma. Sure, the two Seigaku tennis players had been seeing each other, which had been more than a little disturbing to find out.

"_Syuusuke, have you seen my math book? I think I left it—" The youngest of the Fuji children froze in the doorway of his brother's bedroom, wishing, for once in his life, that he had knocked before entering. _

_The sight that greeted him was that of Syuusuke sitting at his desk, pen in hand and...Echizen in lap. The dark-haired boy was straddling the sitting teen, head lowered and lips latched firmly onto his collarbone. Back arched, chest shuddering with every gasp, Syuusuke was grasping the hair at the nape of the Echizen's neck and letting loose small sounds of pleasure as heir hips moved together in a slow, steady rhythm. _

_Yuuta's eyes widened, his mind regaining enough composure to slide the door shut with a loud bang. His hand dropped to his side, and he stared at the floor uncertainly for a long moment before the bedroom door quietly swished open again. _

"_Here you are, Yuuta." Syuusuke, math book in hand, smiled at his younger brother, holding the object out. As Yuuta dazedly reached for the book, the older of the two pulled it back out of reach for just a moment, his smile widening. "Take care not to lose this again, little brother. It's important to your studies."_

_Yuuta nodded, taking the offered book and turning towards his room, not to be seen for the rest of the evening. _

His cheeks filling with just a bit of color and his shoulders hunching, the young man frowned at the memory. He hadn't been able to look Echizen or his brother in the eye for a long time after that. But he'd still noticed...something. Syuusuke had seemed happier, his smile less forced, more relaxed. Yuuta would catch his brother daydreaming, often chuckling to himself. Their sister would giggle and sigh, saying strange things about being young and in love.

He'd never felt such an emotion himself, though he was sure love was about as complicated as emotions got. And he had no intention of feeling anything of the like for a long, long time.

A pair of feet, suddenly, appeared in front of his own on the sidewalk, and he looked up to find a familiar face. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "Meino-san!"

Meino Nanako, Ryoma's cousin, tilted her head and smiled down at the young man. "Yuuta-kun. What a wonderful surprise." Yuuta's cheeks colored again, and he offered a sheepish grin. "Are you here visiting your brother?"

The middle-schooler looked behind him towards the tennis courts, shaking his head. "I came to speak with the captain." He turned back to the young woman. "What are you doing here?"

Nanako's smile lessened somewhat, and Yuuta immediately felt a sense of guilt wash over him for such a blunt question. Before he could apologize, she spoke. "I am here to collect Ryoma's things. His parents are busy today with the funeral arrangements." Yuuta had no words for her. He nodded and lowered his head. "Will we be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Uh, yes," the young man replied awkwardly. "Many of my teammates will be there as well, to offer their respects."

Nanako nodded and forced her smile to widen. "I'm sure the Echizens will appreciate that very much." Sighing, she looked to the entrance of the school. "It was nice to see you Yuuta-kun. I should hurry, though. Ryoma's parents will need me home soon."

"Aa," Yuuta whispered. "It was nice seeing you, too." He quickly stepped around her, starting in the direction of his own middle school. Mizuki would not be happy that he had taken so long to follow, but no matter how many times Yuuta tried to deny it, tennis would always be a distant second to family. And while he still did not understand everything that was happening with Syuusuke, one thing was very certain.

His brother was slipping away.

0 o 0 o 0

Tezuka recognized the young woman walking towards the tennis courts, though he couldn't quite place her until she introduced herself. He was surprised; he'd thought that perhaps the Echizen family would send word for Ryoma's things, not come to get them themselves. Ryoma's cousin was quiet and polite, though the smile on her face was strained and caused ugly lines to stretch the smooth skin around her mouth and eyes. The captain remembered thinking her pretty the last time he had seen her and almost found himself blushing at the thought.

"Fuji!" he called suddenly to hide his embarrassment. Falling back from the group rounding the courts on their thirteenth lap—punishment for Kaidoh's interruption during practice—the prodigy glanced back, stiffening as his gaze fell on Nanako. When he didn't move, Tezuka motioned for Fuji to join them, which the teen did reluctantly.

"Meino-san," Fuji greeted softly with a slight nod of his head.

Lips stretched thin and eyes shining with unshed tears, Nanako replied, "Syuusuke-kun. It is good to see you."

An awkward silence permeated the air, and Tezuka took this as his cue to intervene. "Fuji, will you show Meino-san to Echizen's locker? She is here to collect his things."

Nodding, Fuji lowered his gaze and started toward the locker room, not bothering to make sure Nanako was following. When the two were out of earshot of the courts, however, she spoke, her voice trepid.

"You haven't been by the house. I've been worried about you."

"Why should I come by when there is nothing there for me?" Fuji hadn't meant for the words to come out the way they did. In his mind, the question seemed logical, but the pain that it elicited on Nanako's face made his error obvious. "I mean..."

"I understand," the young woman said, following Fuji into the small clubhouse. They stopped in front of a neat, near-barren locker. "This was his?" The teen nodded. "So little..."

"I do...have a few of his things in my locker, if you'd like to have them," Fuji admitted regrettably. It was only a few little things—a hairbrush, a tube of sunscreen, and an empty water bottle—but they were parts of Ryoma that the prodigy didn't feel like giving up.

To his great relief, Nanako shook her head. "I'm sure," she said, "that if Ryoma gave them to you to have, then they should stay with you."

"Thank you," Fuji said softly. "I can find you a box for his things, if you like." Without waiting for an answer, he turned, finding a cardboard box with slotted handles behind some old tennis equipment. Together, the two fit what little Ryoma had kept in his locker into the box—a broken racket, a few worn tennis balls, an extra set of clothing for practices, an old pair of sneakers. Only one thing remained in the small compartment. They both paused after reaching for it at the same time.

Nanako clasped her hands in front of her. "Do you think they'll mind?"

"No," Fuji said without hesitation. "I'm sure the coach and the team will want your family to have it." Carefully he slid Ryoma's Seigaku tennis jacket from its place, clenching the familiar fabric one last time before holding it out to the young woman. Nanako's fingers gently grasped the jacket, but Fuji did not let go.

"May I ask you something?" the prodigy pleaded, not daring to look away from the object that they both held.

Nanako pursed her lips. "You want to know more."

Swallowing hard, Fuji whispered, "Yes."

AN: Next chapter out soon, I hope! Catch you all on the flip side, Gators. :P


	4. Truth in Lies

AN: Wow, guys. Sorry it's taken a while. This chapter gave me a bit of trouble, and I've started drowning in school work (including student observing at the local high school...W00t!). And I also got a little side-tracked with the _Scrubs _fanfiction...My bad. Wish me luck with this last semester of school! And enjoy this next chapter, brought to you by the amazing **_awin-chan_**.

Chapter Four:

Nanako and Fuji sat side by side on the bench in front of Ryoma's locker, neither able to look the other in the eye. The young man wanted answers; answers which Nanako was prepared to give, however reluctantly. A heavy amount of mystery still clouded Ryoma's death. The newspapers were prevented from giving too much information, and even the police were baffled by certain details of the case. Fuji's only hope was the family that would know more than anyone the gruesome specifics of his former boyfriend's death.

"The newspaper said he was...assaulted," the teen started, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

"Yes," the young woman confirmed with a solemn nod.

Swallowing hard, Fuji took a deep breath. "Did it...go any further than that?"

Beside him, Nanako stiffened and paled, and the young man's insides twisted painfully until she abruptly shook her head.

"No," she said harshly, her breath hitching. "No, nothing like that. Just...bruises and broken bones, mostly."

A slow stream of air passed though Fuji's lips in relief, and he bluntly moved on to the next question. "Do you know what killed him? Exactly, I mean."

Nanako's head lowered, and she let loose a quiet sob. Covering her trembling lips with the back of her hand, she took in a shuddering breath and said, "Forgive me, Syuusuke-kun. These questions are more difficult to answer than I thought they would be."

"I'm sorry, Meino-san. I didn't mean to upset you."

Silence lingered between the two for a long moment before Nanako spoke again. "The injury to his head, the one that ruptured his eye—" Fuji winced, picturing the broken and battered boy in his mind. "—caused bleeding around his brain."

The tennis prodigy held back a whimper, pinning it to the back of his throat. "It was a slow death," he choked.

Nanako turned her head away as tears glided down her cheeks. "There is more," she whispered.

"Please," the young man urged desperately, and Nanako's heart hurt to hear it.

"The markings on his head...The coroner said they looked like the edge of a tennis racket frame."

Fuji frowned. "Was his tennis bag with him when he was found?"

"Yes. A racket was missing. The police found markings inside the dumpster, and there was paint underneath Ryoma's fingernails."

This time, Fuji could not stop the dreadful noise that tore from his throat. "He was alive," he cried. "He could have been saved. Someone could have...Someone _should _have..."

A soft hand found his own, easing in carefully until his fingers were no longer curled into a tight fist. Cool, slender fingers tangled with his own, and Fuji could feel the anger and the resentment leaving him bit by bit.

"There was nothing anyone could have done," Nanako whispered, one arm sliding its way across the young teen's shoulders and drawing him closer to her side. "It was already too late."

"He died alone," Fuji sobbed, burying his face into her shoulder and staining her white sweater with tears. "He died wondering why no one was looking for him, why no one had found him."

"He died," Nanako said with a trembling calm, "knowing he was loved, and that we were doing everything we could to find him."

"No," the teen whimpered, raising his head. "How could he? How could he have known that? How could he possibly..."

The young woman smiled despite the tears breaking free of her eyes. "Because he was Ryoma."

Contemplating the simple answer, Fuji sat very still for a long moment. He placed himself in that dank dumpster, in Ryoma's last moments. The young prodigy's last thoughts would not have been about being alone or wondering if he would be found in time. Fuji's mind would have wandered to happier things, to his family and his friends, to tennis and school...to Ryoma's cocky smile and haughty laugh and their brief but wonderful time together. And in an uncharacteristic moment of selfishness, Fuji pondered what exactly Ryoma's thoughts of him had been.

"I should really be going," Nanako said softly, standing and reaching for the box. Fuji's fingers settled lightly over the cardboard, and their eyes met briefly.

"Thank you, Meino-san," the young man uttered.

Nanako's lips twitched, a small and timid gesture that held a world of hope. "You're welcome, Syuusuke-kun."

Fuji stood and lifted the box. "May I help you carry this home?"

"That would be very nice, thank you." The young teen in tow, she started towards the door. "This will give you a chance to find a few of Ryoma's things that you would like to keep before everything is packed away."

"'Packed away?'" Fuji questioned, stopping in his tracks. Nanako stopped as well, turning to face him. "They're packing his things? So soon?"

"They're packing _everything_," the young woman said with surprise, "for the move."

"Move?" the teen repeated dumbly, a frown pulling at his lips.

"To...America." An uncertain look painted Nanako's face, her hands clasping tightly in front of her. "You...You didn't know?"

"They're leaving him?" Fuji asked with astonishment. "They're just going to bury him and run away from this? From him?"

Nanako looked heart-broken. Shaking her head, she placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, the box keeping them apart by several inches. The pit of the young man's stomach collapsed, and he could feel his soul falling into the dark abyss he had created for himself. Something wasn't right.

"Syuusuke, the funeral here in Japan...It's for you, for his friends and his family." Nanako took a deep breath. "But the Echizens do not plan on burying him here..."

The box slipped from Fuji's fingers.

0 o 0 o 0

All activity on the courts ceased as a thudding noise echoed from the club house. Several pairs of eyes locked onto the captain, who frowned deeply at the small building.

"Keep practicing!" he called, starting towards the locker room. Before he reached the door, however, someone exited abruptly, bumping into him with a large cardboard box clutched in trembling hands. Tezuka stared at Nanako's tear-stained and red-tinted cheeks, her long bangs that hung low over her eyes, her shaking shoulders.

"What's happened?" he asked with uncharacteristic softness.

"Nothing," the young woman said hurriedly, sucking in a sharp breath and repressing a sob. A painful lump settled in her throat, and she nearly choked attempting to tell the teen to let her by. Tezuka held her where she stood, looking over her shoulder into the darkness of the locker room.

"Fuji," he said sternly. The other teen emerged from the shadows slowly, as a ghost would from a dusty attic. His face was ashen, a haunted look tainting his blue eyes. The captain hesitated in asking, but very quickly composed himself. "What is the meaning of this?"

"They're leaving," Fuji stated flatly, his voice distant. "The Echizens are moving to America." There was a short moment of quiet before the young prodigy continued grimly. "And they're taking Ryoma with them."

0 o 0 o 0

Fuji could not remember feeling as betrayed as he did the moment Ryoma told him he was leaving for America again. They were downtown, and the youngest of the Seigaku regulars had been particularly quiet all evening.

"_Is it another tournament? I could come with you this time! I've never been to America."_

The younger tennis prodigy had explained that there were no tournaments, that there would _be_ no more tournaments, that he was, in fact, very much _done _with tennis.

"_What do you mean?"_

Ryoma told him very matter-of-factly that he was moving to America with his family, and they would not be coming back to Japan. Ever.

"_But...why?"_

He was tired. He'd beaten the system, surpassed his father, and now it was time to stop. He wanted a life beyond tennis, beyond expectations and subjugation. He wanted to be a teenager.

"_And you think you have to leave Japan to do that? Why can't you stay? Is it your parents? Your father? Is he making you leave, Ryoma?"_

It wasn't his father. It wasn't his parents' decision at all. He'd asked them, _begged _them to move back to America. He wanted to leave Japan because it was a reminder.

"_Of tennis?"_

Of everything he didn't want anymore.

"_Even me?"_

Ryoma couldn't answer that question, didn't _have _an answer for that question. He looked at the ground, pulled his cap lower over his eyes, but it didn't hide the tears running down his face.

"_Why are you doing this? Why are you saying these things? Do you...Are you..."_

He was breaking up. He wanted to leave Japan with a clear conscience, with the thought that he wasn't leaving anything or anyone behind.

"_But you are! What about the regulars? What about your friends? What about _me_?"_

It wasn't like they'd see him anyway. They were moving on to high school, and Ryoma would only have Momo-chan and Kaidoh-sempai for another year. Then what?

"_But you'll be in high school before you know it! With all of us! Ryoma, you can't..."_

He was. And his mind couldn't be changed.

"_Ryoma! Don't go! We can still—"_

But they couldn't. And they wouldn't. Ryoma hitched up the tennis bag on his shoulder as he disappeared into the darkness of a filthy alley, taking a shortcut to the bus station that he would never reach and giving no last glance to the ex-boyfriend that he would never see again.

0 o 0 o 0

"Syuusuke-kun," Nanako said quietly, pulling the young teen from his thoughts. "Please...Don't."

Fuji looked down, finding his fingers wrapped tightly around Nanako's wrist. She was using all of her strength to keep from dropping the box clutched against her slight frame.

"Fuji!" Tezuka barked, and the prodigy let go with a grimace, as if Nanako's skin had burned him.

"I'm sorry." Swallowing, he took a deep breath and released it in a trembling exhale. "Nanako, I would like to accompany you home...if you'll still allow me to."

Nanako pursed her lips, nodding tightly and allowing Fuji to take the box from her. The two silently started towards the front gate of the school, Fuji stopping and turning briefly.

"I'll be back soon," he said, and the tennis captain watched solemnly as they disappeared around a corner.

AN: Hmmm...Later, Gators! Have a good week. I'm going to a rodeo! Yeeee-haw!


End file.
